The Malveaux Curse Mysteries Boxset 2

by G A Chase

  “No one said your mission in life would be easy.”

  32

  Myles came to on the couch in the apartment he shared with Kendell. Doughnut Hole was licking his face with such determination he thought the puppy must have been trying to revive him with dog slobber. “It’s okay, boy. I made it home.”

  On the chair, Kendell held Cheesecake, who was whimpering something awful. “Finally. I was starting to fear our new couch came with a sleeping spell attached.”

  He couldn’t remember Cheesecake ever putting up such a racket. “What’s with your girl?”

  “She hasn’t stopped acting like I’m sick since you took that piece of my soul to hell. Maybe now that she sees you’re awake, she’ll believe me that everything is going to be okay.”

  He struggled to remember where he was supposed to be. “What happened in Delphine’s office? I thought my body was wired up to Professor Yates’s contraption.”

  She set Cheesecake on the ottoman and sat at Myles’s side. “It was. Once we knew you’d succeeded with Colin, we brought you back here so you could rest in comfort.”

  His head buzzed from too many dimensions. “This is the worst hangover ever. How long have I been out?”

  Her hand on his forehead reminded him of his mother’s loving touch when he’d been sick as a child. “Eleven hours and twenty-three minutes, give or take thirty seconds.”

  He laughed, which made his head pound harder. “You timed me?”

  “Me and the dogs have been pretty worried. Doughnut Hole hasn’t left your side since Professor Yates and Charlie carried you home.”

  He struggled to sit up. “How are you? And where are we with the hell modification?”

  As his eyes began to focus, he noticed why Cheesecake had been so worried. The dark circles under Kendell’s eyes made her look as though she hadn’t slept in days.

  “I’m not whole yet. The part of me in hell still has work to do, but don’t worry—I’m with Sanguine. Professor Yates and Luther were able to start up their virtual-hell projection. So far, everything seems to be working. Colin was knocked out from his time-travel adventure, so we had to wait for him to come to in order to find out if everything was working. From the way he interacted with our voodoo-doll people, we could tell you’d succeeded in making him see what we wanted him to see.”

  Myles held his head and tried to remember everything that had happened in the spirit realm. “I had the weirdest conversation with Marie Laveau. Something about Colin’s lack of empathy being the root of his problem and me having to make him understand people. My memories are pretty jumbled after that. Any idea how I made it home?”

  “The totem reemerged on Delphine’s table.” Her voice quivered, though he couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion or remembered fear. “It took both of us to get you out.”

  His time in Baron Malveaux’s totem had been fuzzy, and he had no memories at all of piloting his way home. “I’d have to guess Marie Laveau spirited me home. Guess I’ll have to reconsider my disbelief in all those sea stories about ghosts captaining vessels home after the sailor was knocked out in a storm.”

  “However you did it, I’m just glad you’re home.”

  His thoughts were beginning to clear. “Wait. Why are you and Sanguine still in hell?”

  She moved her hand from his head to his side. “I know what I’m doing, both here in life and there in hell. Right now, alternate me is sitting with Sanguine in the Scratchy Dog while she gets a few hours of sleep onstage. We wanted to be somewhere we could be watched from one of the gates. Colin progressed time too fast for her to adjust. We suspect the same was true for him. With him knocked out, Professor Yates and Luther had time to fine-tune the projection.”

  “What about the you that’s sitting here with me?”

  “I’m a little disoriented, but we have to make sure Colin completely believes it’s me he’s seeing, or else he’ll never buy into our ruse.”

  “You’re only spirit in hell, so how are you going to make this scheme work?” Myles said, trying not to sound like the judgmental boyfriend.

  “Delphine created a voodoo doll for me along with everyone else. In his realm, those walking, talking, living projections are completely solid. I inhabit that doll. He’ll never notice anything different about me from any other person.”

  “And the archangel Sanguine? With those wings and eyes, she’s not going to pass unnoticed.”

  “She’s one of the reasons I had to stay,” Kendell said. “I’m still concerned she sees this virtual reality as a way of lulling Colin into a sense of security then continuing with her ultimate plan of wiping him from history.”

  Myles thought Sanguine’s plan was more based on emotion than logic, but her idea had its merits. “I don’t want to see her fly off into the past never to be seen again either. I know that’s your biggest worry.”

  Kendell shook her head. “In some alternate reality, I’m sure that’s exactly what she does. I’m worried that what she can’t see is that erasing his deeds only creates another dimension. Nothing she does can change the past as we know it. Our reality remains the same. All she would accomplish is leaving us to deal with Colin on our own.”

  Imagining all the different versions of life renewed Myles’s dimensional hangover. “Have you tried explaining that to her?”

  “She’s sleeping. Trust me, getting that message through her thick skull is my first objective. Once she understands that her plan won’t make any difference, and we’re sure Colin is buying into his new reality, I’ll work with you to reunite my spirit and get both me and Sanguine out of hell once and for all.”

  * * *

  For all of her assurances to Myles, Kendell knew convincing Colin he had returned to life wasn’t going to be easy. As someone who’d spent so much time alone in hell, he would find ways of testing everyone and everything to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. She and Sanguine were the only real people in the dimension who could tell if the plan had been effective, and time was running out before Colin started poking around his new playroom.

  But Sanguine was also going to be a challenge. The young swamp witch had a drive to honor her grandmother that rivaled Delphine’s obsession with Marie Laveau, and that meant Colin had to suffer in the hell the old swamp witch had created. Kendell hoped Sanguine would listen to logic if it were presented in a loving manner. Colin needed to believe this was a continuation of the life he remembered if they stood any chance of keeping him contained.

  The real problem, however, was Kendell herself, or rather the sliver of herself that was playing in hell like a witch dancing with naked abandon around a bonfire.

  As Kendell strapped on her electric guitar for the nightly gig at the Scratchy Dog, she felt her alternate self doing the same but filled with more excited anticipation. Kendell looked over at Myles, who was tending bar with Charlie. The normalcy of the scene gave her comfort.

  The sliver of her in hell, however, was eyeing Colin Malveaux, who had just stepped into the club. To avoid the distraction, she turned to her fellow bandmates who, though mirroring the actions of the real people they represented, had about as much depth as cardboard cutouts.

  The two versions of herself doing almost identical actions quickly became so disorienting that Kendell feared she would inadvertently give away the deception. Here in life, I’m Kendell. There in hell, I’m Endall. The name is subtle enough that if I slip up I can explain it away by too much alcohol. Plus, I like the play on words. She smiled at her brilliance, though she knew most of the self-congratulations came from Endall.

  Kendell turned to Polly. “Let’s play something loud. My fingers are aching to wail away at these strings.” She suspected the desire to stand out musically came from her alter ego’s longing to shove her music down Colin’s throat.

  As the night wore on, Kendell lost track of what songs they’d played. Endall was consumed with taking center stage even though Kendell kept to her spot behind Polly. Once she finally pried her fing
ers off the neck of the guitar, she had trouble straightening them out.

  “That was pretty intense playing, sister.” Polly sounded like she’d been ridden hard, and Kendell knew it was her hard-driving beat that had been doing the riding.

  “Good thing we’ve got tomorrow off. At least the tips should be impressive.”

  Polly helped round up the equipment. “I kind of thought with you not being at full strength the rest of us might catch a break. Mind telling me where that energy came from?”

  Though she’d played with vigor, Kendell hadn’t considered how much of the night had been directed by Endall. “Guess I plugged into some hellish energy.”

  “Just don’t let it become another addiction.”

  * * *

  Endall desperately wanted to keep playing. She’d have gone all night had the rest of the band not been such stiffs. Reluctantly, she put her black guitar back in its case. Looking back up, she saw Colin approach the stage.

  “I wasn’t sure what to expect when you saw me. I hope that intensity wasn’t your way of directing your anger at me.”

  Kendell was demanding Endall play her part. Colin supposedly had escaped hell, and she was supposed to be surprised and pissed, not excited. “So what if you broke out? We played our cards, and you played yours. Looks like you won again.” She hoped her annoyance would cover her lack of surprise.

  “Can we go somewhere private to talk?”

  From the back of her mind, Endall felt Kendell sigh in relief. Colin believed they weren’t alone, which meant he was accepting all the moving mannequins as real people. “There’s an old speakeasy out back. Give me a minute to clean up. If you feel like buying a girl a drink, I could use an Abita Turbo Dog.”

  “Whatever my lady desires.”

  She watched the exchange between Colin and cardboard-cutout Myles with mild curiosity. Her voodoo-doll boyfriend did such a good rendition of the pissed-off lover she worried the two men might end up duking it out in the street. Cardboard Charlie intervened before things got physical. Not bad for a first interaction. Even I couldn’t tell Myles was a fake.

  Talking to herself was taking on a whole new meaning. Just don’t get carried away by Colin’s charms. Remember, he’s supposed to have broken out of the prison made up by me and Sanguine. If that had happened, I’d be a little damaged.

  Yes, Mom. But Endall knew the warning was justified. She had control over Colin and his hell. If the devil discovered he was being played, she’d have to call in Sanguine for reinforcement, and everyone had done too much work to have to start all over again. Before getting offstage, she gave Polly a hug just to see how it would feel.

  “You did good tonight,” Polly said. “I’m just glad we don’t have to play with that intensity every night.”

  “Afraid you can’t keep up?” Endall couldn’t resist the snarky little rejoinder.

  “Just watch yourself. Remember, you’re not at full strength.”

  Endall looked deep into the bandleader’s eyes and saw the telltale sparkle of Sanguine’s reflective insect irises. “Nice to know I’m not alone.”

  “Want me to tag along for your discussion with Colin?”

  As Polly, Sanguine might pass as nothing more than a chaperone, but for Colin to fully trust Endall, she needed to take him on alone. “I’ve got this.”

  “Just don’t fuck it up.”

  Endall stepped off the stage and headed out the back door of the club.

  Colin sat at the table often used by Myles to talk to the loas of the dead. “You seem surprisingly unconcerned at seeing me, or should I expect some interdimensional guardian force to sweep me back to my hell?”

  She sat at the table and enjoyed the first sip of the dark beer. The thick, chocolaty head tickled her nose. Another successful test—this beer tastes exactly as I remember. Though Kendell would probably experience the beer just as Endall had, confirming the level of Professor Yates’s details seemed useful. “As we discussed earlier, I didn’t toss you into hell.”

  “No, but you were one of the guards that kept me there. You don’t seem the type to accept failure so lightly.”

  Endall hated having to explain her motives, but apparently, Colin needed convincing that she didn’t have a hidden agenda. “Actually, I find it something of a relief not to be constantly keeping an eye on you. Agnes Delarosa believed the best place for you was isolated from everyone. Sanguine still thinks you should be erased from history. In my opinion, neither option is realistic. I’d hoped you might learn how to behave in society by passing through the seven gates, but apparently, I miscalculated your interest in me. Or was your escape a matter of not wanting to play by the rules?”

  He ran his finger along the lip of his glass, which was filled with rum and Coke. “I’ve never been good at taking orders. You don’t look the worse for wear.”

  She shrugged as if the spiritual damage of his busting through the seven gates didn’t matter. “What’s one more broken woman to you?”

  “So our game is finished—no more controlling the curse, and no more banishments to hell?”

  She looked around the courtyard as if seeing something he didn’t. “You’ll find this life is different than the one Agnes blew you out of with her hurricane. Success came easy to you back then. It won’t now. We may not have been able to change your surroundings, but you are different.”

  He stopped playing with his glass. “Sanguine made a similar threat, but I can tell my history is intact. That must mean you still have the totem. I can feel it influencing my perception of people. Something about that voodoo fetish controls my destiny. What do you know?”

  She was playing a bluff but one that worked well with both sides of his being. “Archibald Malveaux was a two-bit hustler before he stole Baron Samedi’s cane. His business successes weren’t earned. They were conjured. As a loa of the dead, he manipulated his family’s genetics and fortunes, culminating in Lincoln Laroque. That titan of business had his accomplishments handed to him on a silver platter. You must see that nothing you’ve ever done has been due to your skills. Casting you into hell cut that umbilical cord to your source of power.”

  “You think just because you have that hunk of wood and glass you can influence my dominance over this world?”

  She had the heady exhilaration of a prize fighter who had her opponent against the ropes. “I never said anything about that voodoo sculpture, but I find it interesting that you keep pursuing objects as the sources of your power. First, you thought you could rise through your family to gain control of their dynasty with the items cursed by Marie Laveau, then you ruled the afterlife with Baron Samedi’s cane, and now you hope to regain your command of life with the voodoo totem Delphine used to imprison Baron Malveaux. Your obsession with these magical items only proves your self-doubt. You’re a fraud, and you know it. Now the rest of the world will know it too.”

  Quit while you’re ahead. Endall heeded Kendell’s advice and got up from the table, hoping he’d take the hint to leave.

  Colin downed his drink as if he were seeking courage from the alcohol. “I didn’t break out of hell just to become some wretched average Joe. You’ve proven nothing.” He stormed out of the club like a jilted lover.

  Endall fell back into her chair, quivering from the exchange. She tried finishing off her beer for strength. Her hand shook so badly that the dark liquid leaked out of her mouth, but the Kendell side of her glowed with pride. With Sanguine’s help, they could ensure that every personal or business relationship Colin pursued with their cardboard people was doomed to failure.

  The angelic-looking swamp witch floated down from the sky with her white wings spread so wide she nearly touched the brick walls. “You did good.”

  “You sound surprised.” The slight irritation at being doubted helped calm Endall’s nerves.

  “Not surprised, but I think I understand a little better how you feel when I go off on one of my reckless ideas. All you had to do was reject his advances.”

/>   As Kendell, the simple rebuff might have been enough, but Endall wanted to squash the man’s emotions like a bug, not just usher them outside. “He’s still in our hell. Nothing’s really changed regarding his incarceration, only the posters on the brick walls of the prison cell.”

  “I think I like this aggressive side of you. How do you want to orchestrate his failures?”

  Endall caught Myles’s eye behind the bar and raised her empty Abita bottle. He nodded and pulled out a couple of cold ones from the bar fridge. “How much control do you have over the voodoo-doll mirrors Delphine created?”

  “You mean can I take over that fake Myles while he’s making love to you?”

  In her mind, she heard Kendell snicker, but the lustier Endall knew Sanguine’s flirtations weren’t so innocent. “Delphine used the unrestrained part of my being for this trip to hell. Back in life, Kendell can still access these wild characteristics, but here in hell, I’m relegated to only those parts of me that came along with the voodoo totem. So flirt with me at your own risk, sexy witch angel.”

  Sanguine had the shocked expression of a prepubescent girl who’d had her bluff called for I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. “Point taken. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you, and it sounds like you’re in about as much control of your desires as a drunk college freshman at a kegger. To answer your question, Polly let me use her voodoo interpretation to get that message to you. Anyone Delphine sent a voodoo doll to has control over what happens to their likeness here in hell. Professor Yates’s projections of people, however, are completely under our control. They’re kind of on autopilot until we take over.”

  Cardboard Myles set the three bottles on the table and took a seat. “What are you two talking about?”

  Endall wondered what would happen if she jumped his bones then and there. “Just figuring out how much of you is real and how much imaginary.”